


The Wand

by lettuceleave



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bukkake, First Time, Harry Discovers He Likes Guys, Harry-Draco Reconciliation Isn't Easy, Hogwarts Eighth Year, I feel like Harry’s appreciation of skin is actually canon right?, M/M, Sassy Draco Malfoy, first time blowjob, gay experimenting, heteroflexible Ron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2020-05-13 04:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19244011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettuceleave/pseuds/lettuceleave
Summary: Hogwarts 8th Year - Harry tries to reconcile with Draco by healing his Sectumsempra scars. He discovers that he finds Malfoy's skin beautiful and events spiral out of control from there. In the process of coming to terms with these feelings, Harry turns to his best friend(s) to help him make sense of his newly discovered desires.





	1. The Gryffindor Locker Room

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Drarry romance but with a lot of Harry-comes-to-terms-with-liking-D. So it’s a combination of: angsty experimentation with various straight(ish) Gryffindors, some amount of Harry figuring things out with Hermione and Ginny, and Drarry chemistry, including a plot arc to redeem Draco (as the title suggests). I’m currently looking for beta readers for this fic, so if you’re interested, see more in the end note!

It was late at night and a light drizzle fell on Harry’s face as he made his way across the muddy Quidditch patch towards the locker rooms. He’d been flying for hours and enjoyed the easy happiness that came with exhaustion. Quidditch was one of the best things about returning to Hogwarts for an eighth year. Eighth years weren’t allowed to join the house teams, of course, but the friendly match with some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws tonight was more than enough.

He flung open the door to the Gryffindor locker rooms, shook the rain out of his hair and began stripping out of his gear. He had continued with several rounds of finding the snitch after the others had retired for the night, so he was glad to find the locker room empty. He was about to pull his T-Shirt over his head when he realized he wasn’t alone.

“Malfoy!” Harry exclaimed. He had stupidly left his wand in his Quidditch uniform that lay on a nearby bench in a wet pile. It would take him way to long to arm himself if he needed to.

“Evening, Potter.”

“This is the Gryffindor locker room,” he pointed out, firmly pulling his T-Shirt down again to cover himself up.

“Yes, I am aware of that,” the Slytherin replied dryly. He was in the process of putting his school robes on, but didn’t seem embarrassed at all to face Harry with only black trousers on, his shirtless torso completely exposed. Harry stared, dumbfounded. Seeing so much of Malfoy’s skin was… strange. It shone creamy white in the warm glow of the locker room’s magical torches. The pale gauntness Harry had noticed in his features at Malfoy Manor last year was gone, replaced by a healthy color and sinewy muscles. In fact, his body looked positively flawless, except for several scars that ran the length of his chest.

“Admiring your handiwork, Potter?”

Harry felt the flush in his cheeks coming – from shame at what he had done. And maybe also for staring at Malfoy this way? Either way, he needed to say something – and quickly – so he blurted out the first excuse that came to mind.

“I just noticed…” Harry began stammering, “…your hair looks different.”

“Grooming spells are difficult without a wand – not that you would know. But I suppose I should be grateful I have the Savior of the Wizarding World here to point out when I don’t look my best.”

Malfoy shot him an annoyed look and turned away to slip into his shirt.

“No, it looks better on you this way. Less…”

Malfoy turned to face him again and raised an eyebrow.

Awkward silence ensued.

“Well, this was educational,” Malfoy replied coolly. “Not all of us have the luxury of leading the busy and important life you do, Potter, but even I have better things to do than endure fashion advice from someone who clearly gets his hair cut by a troll.”

Maybe it was the good mood that playing Quidditch had put him in, but Harry couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing in spite of himself.

Malfoy grabbed his things and left, turning only to give Harry a confused look.


	2. The Plan for Reconciliation

When Harry arrived in the Gryffindor common room, he was relieved to find Hermione and Ron still awake.

“How’s the pitch? Sorry I couldn’t join you, mate, I had to…” he gestured vaguely, evidently at a loss of a credible excuse.

Harry grinned. Ron and Hermione were curled against each other on one of the couches next to the fireplace, and he didn’t begrudge them their alone-time at all.

“Good. Listen, I ran into Malfoy in the Gryffindor Quidditch locker room just now.”

“Malfoy? What’s the git doing in our locker room?” Ron replied, his expression darkening.

“Harry, it’s just Malfoy,” Hermione interjected carefully. “I hope this isn’t the beginning of another obsession of yours. I heard the Slytherins are giving him a hard time these days. He probably just wanted to—”

“No, that’s not it,” Harry interrupted her. “It’s just that I saw that he still has pretty serious scars from when I… cursed him with _Sectumsempra_ in sixth year.”

“Oh,” Hermione replied more warmly now.

“Now that the war is over and everything was laid out in the open at his trials, I want to make amends for what I did.”

“ _You_ want to make amends?” Ron exclaimed in disbelief.

“You didn’t see Malfoy on top of the Astronomy Tower that night. He never would have killed Dumbledore. And he’s changed. But those scars will always remind him of what he did in sixth year, his role in what happened, and of me being his enemy. You two know how much I regret what happened, and I want to take a first step beyond just a truce. Towards something like reconciliation.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Hermione beamed. McGonagall’s speech at this year’s opening feast had been about reconciliation, so Harry had hoped his idea would resonate with her.

“Hmpf. You haven’t told us what your idea is, yet,” Ron commented.

“I want to help him get rid of his scars, and I thought maybe you knew a way.”

“Seems like a lost cause to me, mate. But if you want to look into it, I suppose Bill might know, being a curse breaker and all,” Ron suggested.

“Actually,” Hermione began, her eyes lighting up, “I talked to Bill and did some research of my own after Snape used _Sectumsempra_ to curse off George’s ear. Essence of dittany is best used to prevent scarring of magically-inflicted wounds, but must be applied promptly on the fresh wound.”

Ron and Harry shared a knowing grin as Hermione cited what was clearly a textbook entry.

“I used dittany to heal Ron’s Apparition splinching, and you told me that Snape recommended dittany when he brought Malfoy to Madam Pomfrey.”

“Yeah,” Harry remembered. “And apparently it worked on the gashes on Malfoy’s face. But the ones on his chest were deeper. That’s where the spell hit. Snape used some kind of singing healing spell. Did you come across anything like that?”

“I can look into it,” Hermione said, the prospect of a new research project clearly cheering her up. “But Harry, most curses leave marks that are permanent. In the rare cases of reversing curses, the process usually involves elements of forgiveness or remorse. Sometimes the ritual needs to be performed by the person who placed the curse, or using the same wand it was performed with, or some combination. I looked into _Sectumsempra_ when George was injured, but since Snape wasn’t likely to help, I dropped that lead. I’ll see what I can find, but since the spell is not in any textbooks, you might have to improvise.”

“Good luck brainstorming solutions with Malfoy,” Ron snorted.

“Actually, I was thinking of returning his wand to him. He made a comment how—”

“He didn’t ask you for his wand back, did he?” Ron interrupted aghast.

“Not exactly. Why?” Harry replied, slightly taken aback by Ron’s reaction.

“It’s just… no wizard in their right mind would do that. It’s beyond shameful. Better to get a new one. My mum told me that when Fred and George’s pranks were getting out of hand in their first year…”

“Ever since I fixed my old wand with the Elder Wand, I haven’t been using Malfoy’s at all, and it seems odd to have two wands, that’s all,” Harry explained.

“I’m just warning you that wands are an sore subject, especially among pureblood families,” Ron shrugged.

“I don’t know if we can trust Malfoy with his old wand,” Hermione said, looking thoughtful. “What if someone performs _priori incantatem_ to see what spells you’ve done with it? And there’s a chance it could affect the way the Elder Wand’s allegiance works…”

“I know. I trust Malfoy not to be a killer or a death eater,” Harry said. “But I don’t think I can trust him much beyond that. Not yet, anyway.”


	3. Cashmere

It took them a few days to come up with a plan, and another week until Harry was able to catch Malfoy alone in the hallway before dinner.

“Malfoy,” Harry called, pulling him aside.

“Stalking me even without your invisibility cloak now, Potter?” the Slytherin snapped, jerking his arm away.

“We need to talk.”

“Hardly.”

Harry frowned. But what did he expect? That Malfoy would make this easy?

“I mean I want to talk to you. Here, this classroom is empty,” he said, holding the door open.

“I suppose I am in no position to refuse,” Malfoy replied coolly as he walked past Harry.

“What does that mean?” Harry pulled the classroom door shut behind them.

“It has been made clear to me that I best not be seen arguing with the Savior of the Wizarding World. And as much as I’d like to think that I am being tailed because of my tasteful choice of wardrobe, we both know that’s giving the Auror Office too much credit.”

“We weren’t followed. I made sure.”

“I’m touched. Now out with it, Potter. What do you want?”

Harry sighed and began fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves. He should have thought this through further than just cornering Malfoy in an empty classroom. He’d been too focused on figuring out ways to perform the magic that he hadn’t considered how to explain it to Malfoy.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for… giving you those scars.”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“And here I was, expecting the usual interrogation followed by baseless accusations. But it seems I have misjudged you all these years and your nobility truly is as limitless as they say.”

“Oh, cut it out, Malfoy. It’s just you and me now. You don’t need to sneer at me like your father!” Harry snapped, beginning to loose his patience and his temper.

“Don’t—!”

Malfoy’s hand darted into his robes for his wand. But Harry drew his own even quicker, acting on pure instinct. His wand gripped tightly and pointing at Malfoy’s chest, he was ready to disarm Malfoy in the blink of an eye.

Until he noticed Malfoy hadn’t drawn his wand. Because Malfoy didn’t have a wand.

“I am NOT my father!” the Slytherin hissed lowering his empty hand back to his side.

“I know. Your father is in Azkaban and I made sure he stayed there. You’re not, and I did my best to make sure of that too.”

Malfoy unclenched his fists. The lips that had been tight with anger a moment before turned into a cool smile.

“Ah, there it is again, that uncanny knack of yours to grasp the obvious. You should make sure the countless authors of your biography list it as a core skill of yours when they struggle to come up with reasons why you haven’t kicked the cauldron yet.”

“Shut up, Malfoy.”

“Really, Potter, I’m quite serious. I might even venture to call you smarter than that oaf—”

“I’m not going to let you provoke me anymore!” Harry shot back, trying his best to resist casting a number of hexes that came to mind.

“Of course not. Yet here we are with your wand pointing straight at my heart. Perhaps I haven’t lost my touch after all.”

Harry took an involuntary step forward, his body preparing to land a satisfying punch to the Slytherin’s face.

Malfoy backed into the wall, his expression faltering and betraying for the first time a hint of fear under the thin veneer of pride.

Harry took a deep breath and steadied his wand hand. This was all going very wrong.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, trying to sound calm. Instead it came out desperate.

“Then lower your wand.”

“I can’t. I have to… just trust me, okay?”

“No offense, Potter, but I wouldn’t trust you with a pygmy puff.”

“You have a pygmy puff??” Harry asked, trying to keep the grin from spreading on his face.

“Salazar, no. It’s an expression! One that you’d know if you weren’t a…”

“…a what? A blood traitor?” Harry finished his sentence. He raised his wand to Malfoy’s throat.

Malfoy swallowed, the fear now unmistakable in his eyes.

“What do you want with me?”

“I told you, I want to apologize. Can you just for once stop being a git? You’re making this much more difficult than it needs to be. Just… say something genuinely nice. It would help with the spell.”

“In Slytherin, we have the sense to stick to first years when experimenting with new spells. Now if you are so intent on hexing me, then for Merlin’s sake, get it over with so I have time to swing by the hospital wing before dinner.”

“I told you, I’m just trying to make things right!”

“And so the Saviour stoops to demanding compliments at wandpoint.”

“I take what I can get,” Harry replied, glowering at him.

Harry saw in the corner of his eye that Malfoy was clutching the stone wall rather tightly.

“Lower your wand.”

“Not a chance, Malfoy.”

The Slytherin rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Please.”

Harry blinked. He never thought he would hear Malfoy say that word. Ever. So he obliged.

A bit of color returned to Malfoy’s cheeks and Harry saw him exhale.

“Now that we’ve restored at least a modicum of civility to this conversation – what does the spell require me to say?”

“I dunno, something nice.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “I can already tell that you’ve really thought this through.”

Harry glowered at him.

“Fine. Your eyes have a nice color.”

Harry frowned. “Is that the best you can do? Everyone I meet makes a comment about my eyes, Malfoy. You’ll need to put some effort into it.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the Savior of the Wizarding World isn’t satisfied with a simple compliment.”

“Don’t call me that,” Harry said, gripping the wand at his side so tightly that several red sparks erupted from its tip.

“Well then, Potter. Shall I sing a song about how your muscles are as hard as a troll’s arse? I can add a verse on how your hair looks like the Womping Willow struck by lightning, and that you have a smile that could light up a phoenix.”

“Malfoy, if you’re not even going to try…” he groaned and raised his wand again. He hoped his groan hid the fact that he was fighting back a grin.

“All right! All things considered, you might be a slightly better Quidditch player than I am,” the Slytherin mumbled, not looking at him.

Harry was tempted to say ‘See? That wasn’t too hard?’ but Malfoy’s words had actually surprised him. He never thought the Slytherin would admit that. But he had a job to do. He recalled the healing song he had practiced with Hermione and tried to add what Malfoy had said to all the reasons why Malfoy was likeable, why he didn’t deserve those scars, why Harry should never have cast _Sectumsempra_. Then he raised his wand again.

Malfoy shifted nervously.

Harry concentrated on the memory of Malfoy lowering his wand on the top of the Astronomy tower that night. He recalled his face when recognition and hesitation played on his pale features at Malfoy Manor. The moment when Malfoy had cornered him in the Room of Hidden Things and the feeling of his arms wrapped around Harry’s waist when they escaped the fiendfyre. The way his body was flush against Harry’s back – two Quidditch players moving in perfect unison through the deadly flames.

“Potter, what in Merlin’s name…”

Harry blinked.

Malfoy’s clothes were unraveling themselves before his eyes. His school robes were already a pool of black on the floor, his necktie was slowly untying, and Malfoy’s shirt was opening one button at a time. He had was doing nonverbal spells without even realizing it.

“That’s cashmere,” Malfoy protested as his v-neck sweater tore open in the front.

Harry might have been able to put an end to it, but instead he watched dumbfounded as the layers of clothing peeled away and revealed Malfoy’s bare chest. So much skin, so much perfect skin. It was distracting. But it was only natural to be taken aback by the sight of his Hogwarts nemesis displayed in front of him like this, right?

There were three white scars running across Malfoy’s flawless torso, and this was what Harry had come here to fix. He began chanting the healing spell and when he came to the second cycle, he gently placed the tip of his wand on the beginning of one of the scars. As soon as he made contact, Malfoy shivered and Harry felt magic prickling through his wand. Something was flowing from his wand into Malfoy, but at the same time he felt a counter flow from Malfoy’s scar back into the wand. Encouraged by the odd and not entirely unpleasant sensation, Harry began tracing Malfoy’s scars with his wand. Malfoy’s chest was heaving unevenly with erratic breaths, so Harry made sure to keep his wand movement light and gentle. Only once did he dare look up at the Slytherin’s face. Malfoy’s expression was frozen in a mix of surprise and confusion that actually mirrored what Harry felt himself.

After Harry had traced all of the scars three times, he put his wand away.

“It’s no use. Snape and Madam Pomfrey already tried,” Malfoy said. The honesty and vulnerability in his voice sounded strange to Harry’s ears.

Malfoy tried to turn away, but Harry placed his left hand on his chest to keep him in place.

As soon as his palm touched Malfoy’s warm skin, Harry was flooded with sensations. The drumming of Malfoy’s heartbeat against his fingertips. The slightly clammy skin that flexed soft and smooth over his chest muscles. And the unexpected intensity of a touch between two boys, bare skin against bare skin in a gesture that was too intimate to be normal.

Harry hastily withdrew his hand, although the memory of this touch lingered in his palm. Instead, he focused on the task at hand and drew the second wand from his robes. Malfoy’s wand. He remembered to focus his thoughts and his magic in a way that neither Snape nor Madam Pomfrey could have. He filled it with remorse and… affection. Strange, how it suddenly wasn’t so difficult to be affectionate to the Slytherin, when mere moments before he’d wanted to punch him.

Malfoy stifled a gasp of surprise when he recognized his wand. And Harry felt the difference right away. The wand recognized his former master and allowed for a stronger connection. Harry doubled down on his efforts and made his wand movements into a soft caress instead of a mechanical movement. At the same time, he tried to block out all the dislike and annoyance he felt towards the blonde and leave only compassion, empathy, and regret for hurting him.

And, to his utter amazement, it worked. His wand glowed with a pale blue and the scars began fading under Harry’s ministrations until only a thin line remained, barely visible to the eye.

Harry stored away Malfoy’s wand and stared at the result.

“Merlin, Potter… how did you do that?” Malfoy whispered.

“I dunno,” Harry mumbled.

Without thinking about it, he began tracing the now almost invisible scars with his fingertips. Malfoy’s skin felt hot and wonderfully alive. His fingers picked up on the Slytherin’s trembling breaths as his chest rose and fell. He wondered if Malfoy’s face bore similar traces of wounds, and was not free of scars after all. But as soon as he touched the Slytherin’s jawline, the blonde flinched away.

“Touch my face again, Potter, and so help me Salazar, I will hex your hand off.”

Harry backed away, but at the same time noted that Malfoy hadn’t said anything about Harry touching his chest. His left palm was still on the blonde’s collarbone and he let it glide across Malfoy’s sternum, down to his abs.

“Potter! Malfoy drew a sharp breath.

“Sorry, it’s just… your skin is beautiful. I mean flawless! The scars I mean! They’re healed perfectly.”

Harry’s touch wandered away from the safe tracks of the scars up towards the shoulder and down the side of his chest muscles to his waist.

“Are you quite finished with your inspection?”

Harry moved the back of his hand across Malfoy’s nipple and the Slytherin gritted his teeth with a grunt. Goose bumps erupted all over his pale skin. Intrigued, Harry returned to his nipple, grazing his fingertips over it one by one. When he looked up at the blonde’s face, Harry saw that his eyes were shut and his cheeks flushed. Harry’s heartbeat quickened and his prick began swelling in his trousers. He was dimly aware that this wasn’t supposed to happen. This was intimate. This was a _bloke_. This was _Malfoy_.

But he couldn’t help himself. He continued to explore the softness of Malfoy’s exposed skin, trying to elicit more reactions, more goose bumps, more shudders from the blonde. With one hand, he caressed Malfoy’s nipple, while his other hand wandered lower and lower until he ran his fingers across Malfoy’s navel all the way to the buckle of his belt. He tucked his index finger underneath the waistband of the Slytherin uniform and tugged at the belt.

When Malfoy’s silver belt buckle clinked as he fumbled to open it, Malfoy’s eyes flew open.

“Potter, what in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?”

Harry’s hand froze.

“No idea,” he answered truthfully, his heart hammering in his throat.

Harry let his other hand slide down Malfoy’s chest and undid the belt.

“What…?” Malfoy’s question was barely a whisper.

Harry opened the zipper.

“Potter…”

Harry licked his lips, which silenced the Slytherin right away. Like so many moments in Harry’s chaotic life, he had no idea what he was doing, had no plan except to follow his gut. And his gut was telling him he wanted more. More of this new kind of Malfoy who was honest and vulnerable and unbelievably beautiful.

Harry got down on his knees in front of Malfoy, slid his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and slipped the fabric down. Malfoy’s prick was hard and right in front of his face. There was a small bead of precum forming at its tip. As soon as Harry saw it, there was no doubt that he wanted to put it in his mouth.

He dared to look up at the Slytherin. Malfoy was staring down at him, his face flustered and red. Harry waited for a kick in the gut, or a nasty comment, or a snide insult, but nothing came. Malfoy just stared at him wide eyed, biting his lip. Then he leaned forward ever so slightly, bringing his cock a little closer to Harry’s waiting lips.

Before Malfoy could change his mind, Harry mustered all the courage he had and placed his fingers around the Slytherin’s hard shaft. Then he stuck out his tongue to catch the drop of precum, and wrapped his mouth around Malfoy’s cock.

Malfoy gasped and his whole body grew rigid as Harry slid it further into his mouth. Encouraged by this reaction, Harry circled his tongue around the tip and stroked his hand up and down its length. He was rewarded with a stifled moan from the Slytherin. Then Harry felt a hand on the back of his head and Malfoy slid his fingers into Harry’s hair. For some reason that made Harry’s own cock twitch and he swallowed Malfoy even deeper.

“Stop!” Malfoy finally exclaimed.

Harry reluctantly withdrew his lips and looked up. Malfoy’s grey eyes looked down at him, his face flushed and and looking slightly panicked. Harry moved the hand that was still wrapped around Malfoy’s cock up and down the shaft just a little, pulling his foreskin back further.

Malfoy’s eyes rolled back and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Then, to Harry’s surprise, his cock twitched in his hand and was suddenly spurting cum all over Harry’s face. The Slytherin’s hips were bucking erratically, so Harry had little control over where the cum was shooting. The first jet hit him right against the forehead. The second spurt coated him in semen all the way from his chin to his hair. Some of it landed on Harry’s tongue, but Harry was too surprised to close his mouth. He felt more drip from his upper lip onto his teeth, and still Malfoy was continuing to spray his nose and eyebrows and cheekbones.

Eventually, Malfoy slumped back against the wall and his eyes refocused just as Harry closed his mouth. Malfoy’s semen didn’t taste like much, just a little salty and oddly sexy.

Malfoy watched him swallow and jerked his hand out of Harry’s hair. Harry let go of Malfoy and the Slytherin hastily pulled up his trousers and threw his robes over his shoulders, not bothering to button up his shirt. Harry, still on his knees with his face covered in cum that was slowly dripping from his chin, watched him leave. His cock was throbbing for release, and he didn’t understand why. He didn’t understand anything. What just happened? Why did he do that? Why had Malfoy let him? Why did he feel this strange but strong desire for something… more?

At the door, Malfoy turned to look back at him.

“Potter…”

Harry met his eyes. He felt cum running down his temple. He didn’t know what to say.

Malfoy cleared his throat. “Just so you know, I lied. I am leagues better at Quidditch than you, and if you tell anyone I said otherwise, I will deny it.”


	4. "Blimey, Harry!"

“Merlin’s Balls, Harry, _Malfoy_?”

Ron looked at him dumbfounded and sat down on his four-poster bed. Seamus, Dean, and Neville had already left for dinner, but Ron had taken a shower, so Harry had finally caught him alone. The fact that Ron was just wearing a towel and his hair was mussed and wet made him look even more confused.

“I just told you I might be interested in blokes and _that’s_ what bothers you?”

“No, I mean, I wouldn’t have thought in a million years you would… but blimey, Malfoy?”

“I didn’t plan it, or even think much at all. It just sort of happened.”

Ron scratched his head, his face screwed up in thought like he always did when trying to figure something out. Harry absentmindedly ran his fingers across his forehead. He kept double-checking that his cleaning charm hadn’t somehow failed and Malfoy’s cum was reappearing all over his face.

“And you really put his… you know, in your _mouth_?”

Harry nodded.

“And he let you?”

“Ron, we wouldn’t be having this conversation if he hadn’t.”

“And did you, you know, until… I mean, did he…?”

Harry nodded again.

“Bloody Hell.”

“I know,” Harry sighed. “I still can’t quite believe it myself.”

“How… how was it?”

“A little salty, but fine, I suppose.”

“ _Bloody Hell_ , Harry, too much detail! I didn’t mean… I meant in general. Do you want to do it again? Does this mean you’re…?”

“No! I mean, I don’t know what it means, but I’m still me.” Harry sighed. This conversation wasn’t going at all how he had hoped, and it did nothing to clear the confusion he felt.

“I guess I liked it. I’m not sure at all if I would do it again. It was… intense. And it was weird too, especially because it was Malfoy.”

“Yeah, why _Malfoy_? Why didn’t you come to me with this?”

Harry swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Did Ron just suggest…? Ron’s hands were clasped tight in the towel across his lap, knuckles white. Harry noticed for the first time how beautifully his freckles accentuated his broad chest, his wide jaw, and his muscly arms. He wondered if his skin would be as soft as Malfoy’s. Would he get goose bumps too if Harry touched his nipples?

“What?” he asked stupidly.

“I’m your best mate and you never even mentioned you were interested in, you know, doing things with blokes.”

“Ron, that’s because I had no idea until now!”

“Right,” Ron muttered, not meeting his eyes.

“And I’m telling you now, aren’t I? Not Hermione, not anyone.”

“Right,” Ron said again. “Erm, thanks I suppose. But I still don’t understand why you picked Malfoy. You’ve seen other blokes shirtless, haven’t you? The whole Gryffindor Quidditch team…” Ron trailed off, trying to grasp the magnitude of what this meant.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t know why this happened now, and I don’t know what it means that I did what I did.”

“Maybe there’s something about Slytherins… would you have done it to Crabbe or Goyle?”

“No!” Harry assured him vehemently.

“Good,” Ron seemed reassured. “Zabini?”

Harry hesitated. He pictured the quiet Slytherin, and his prick twitched in his trousers. It hadn’t even been an hour since his encounter with Malfoy, and he was in desperate need for a wank. His hormones were going wild. No wonder the thought of Blaise Zabini naked was oddly inviting.

“I dunno. Maybe?” he answered honestly.

Shock crossed Ron’s face, but he quickly gathered himself and continued like a drowning man grasping at straws.

“What about Cedric? Did you fancy Cedric? Everyone fancied Cedric…”

“I fancied Cho, you know that.”

“Yeah, but if it had been him in Malfoy’s place? If you’d been alone in a classroom with Cedric, would you’ve done it with him?”

“How should I know, Ron? That was years ago and he’s dead now, isn’t he?” Harry snapped.

“Right, sorry. Seamus then, or Dean?”

Harry swallowed and cleared his throat. “Probably, yeah.”

Ron’s eyes went wide. “Which one? Or both?”

Harry shrugged.

“What about Neville?”

Harry thought about it and nodded.

“Merlin, Harry, really? Are you saying that if Neville asked you, you would…”

“I dunno, Ron! Why are you asking me this? Are you making a list or something?”

“Easy, Harry. I was just trying to help you figure this out.”

“I know, sorry. Yeah I suppose it’s easier to imagine with Neville, because he’s a friend. It’d be much less weird than with Malfoy.”

“So it _was_ weird!”

“Oh, definitely. I thought he was going to punch me or hex me or something, but he didn’t.”

“Probably helped that he didn’t have a wand,” Ron commented.

“Yeah,” Harry grinned. Relief washed over him. Ron was already joking about the situation. In fact, he was taking this news much better than he’d imagined. How could he ever have doubted him?

“You know, if you’d told me sooner, I would have…” Ron was biting his lips nervously.

“I would have been supportive,” Ron said, at the same time as Harry said: “… let me go down on you?”

It could have been a casual joke. But heir eyes met, mainly because Ron was paralyzed by surprise. And the silence stretched. Harry considered trying to disapparate, never mind the fact they were in the Hogwarts dormitories and it would never work. Or he could just lock himself in a bathroom somewhere and never come out. But then he realized that Ron hadn’t said anything, one way or another. In fact, he was blushing now and kept his hands conspicuously in his lap.

“What do you mean you would have ‘been supportive’?” Harry eventually said, trying to sound casual.

“Well, somehow you went from looking at Malfoy and thinking ‘here’s the biggest tosser that ever breathed’ to ‘I reckon going down on him might be a nice thing to try’. And that’s cool, mate, it’s cool. Bit of a surprise though, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I know. For me too,” Harry said.

“Hang on, d’you reckon someone might have slipped you a potion or something? Hermione would know if there’s a—”

“Don’t tell Hermione!” Harry interrupted him.

“All right, all right, I won’t! Look, I’m your best mate, aren’t I? Whatever it takes for you figure out this new… thing of yours, I’ll help.”

Harry licked his lips and stared at the freckled skin of Ron’s chest.

“What if I asked you if I could touch you?” he said quietly. It was his cock talking and as soon as the words were out, he clamped his hand over his mouth.

He could feel Ron’s eyes on him, but he didn’t dare meet his gaze.

“How would that help?”

“Uh, with Malfoy it all started when I touched his skin. That’s when I knew I wanted more.”

“So you want to test that theory out on me? To see if you’re just into Malfoy, or blokes in general?”

“Forget I said anything.”

“No, it actually makes sense. But Harry, we’re best mates…”

“I know. That’s why. You’re the only one I can ask.”

“Right then. Touch me where exactly?”

Harry felt his cheeks flush.

“Anywhere. Your chest?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure, that’s fine.”

Harry sat down next to Ron, his heart beating so wildly that he was sure Ron would notice. He could smell his soap. Ron had closed his eyes, patiently awaiting his touch.

Harry started off with Ron’s shoulder. He immediately became hard again as he slid his fingers across the smooth freckled skin. He moved to Ron’s collarbone, a little up the side of his neck, then back down the length of his arm to his wrists.

“Is this all right?”

“Harry it’s not like you’re hurting me. It’s actually feels kind of nice. Just do… whatever you need to do.”

“You have really nice skin,” he whispered.

“Sod off, Harry…”

“No, I mean it! It’s very nice.”

Harry’s fingers reached for Ron’s chest and he gently pinched his best mate’s nipple. Ron’s lips parted and his breath hitched. That did it for Harry. He wanted more.

He let one hand wander down Ron’s spine and placed the other on his knee, which was just barely exposed underneath the towel. When he moved his hand upwards, Ron shifted, spreading his legs apart a little. Harry swallowed hard. Did Ron just encourage him to go further? He was beyond nervous, but he slid his hand further up Ron’s thigh anyway.

“Harry?”

Ron opened his eyes and looked at him. Harry froze.

“Yes?”

“So? Is this helping you figure out what you want?”

“I think so. I got hard.”

Ron lauged nervously. “Blimey, so did I.”

“Can I see?”

“You just want to have a look at it?”

Harry nodded.

“But you’ve seen me before, loads of times.”

“Yeah, but… not when you’re hard,” Harry said with a small voice.

“Oh, right. I suppose, why not? Go ahead.”

Ron leaned back, exposing quite an obvious tent underneath his towel. With shaky hands, Harry peeled the towel back. Ron’s cock bobbed up as he lifted the towel. His hard on was stiff and bulging and wet with precum at the tip. Harry’s mouth started watering. Ron’s quizzical eyes were on him, but still he couldn’t keep from staring at his cock. It twitched a little, and Harry licked his lips. Ron’s erection was mesmerizing and it demanded attention.

Ron grabbed his wrist. Harry hadn’t even noticed that his hand had wandered further up his thigh.

“Sorry!”

“It’s all right. So how am I doing as a test subject?”

“Great! I mean, I still dunno if this means I’m into blokes, but I know I like… this.”

Ron let go of Harry’s wrist and nervously ran his hand through his hair.

“Ron, you’re staring at me…”

“I just can’t believe you really took Malfoy in your _mouth_ … what exactly did you do?”

“I just put it in my mouth and started licking.”

Ron swallowed. “That’s all?”

Harry nodded.

“And he came, just from that?”

Harry nodded again.

“Blimey. Must feel pretty wicked then.”

Harry looked at Ron’s cock, then Ron’s face, and then Ron’s cock again. There it was, looking like it was waiting for him to touch it. Harry had always been someone who followed his instincts, especially when the situation seemed entirely unpredictable and dangerous, and he knew that the reasonable thing would be to back out. His first time flying a broomstick, riding a hippogriff, stalking Malfoy with polyjuice potion in his second year, and even hunting the horcruxes. He had never backed down from an adventure just because he hadn’t planned everything out. And he knew this was definitely a crazy idea, but he really wanted to, and there was something in Ron’s expression that told him maybe – just maybe – Ron would say yes.

“Do you want to try it?” Harry asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Ron cleared his throat nervously.

“I mean, I’m just doing this because we’re mates. But… yeah, I suppose I’d like to… just to see what it’s like. Maybe just a little bit? Do you really want to?”

Harry nodded and realized he was licking his lips again.

“Okay. Go on, then.”

Harry slid one arm around Ron’s waist and leaned over. His mouth was drawn to Ron’s hard cock like a magnetic pull. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft and popped it between his lips, rolling the foreskin back with his tongue.

“MERLIN!” Ron gasped.

Harry felt Ron’s cock grow even harder as he swirled his tongue around the tip and slowly took it in deeper. When his nose touched Ron’s pubic hair, Ron bucked his hips and gave a hoarse cry.

Harry immediately withdrew and Ron’s cock slid out of his mouth with a pop.

They looked at each other, both panting, neither sure what to say.

“Merlin, Harry, that felt bloody amazing!” Ron finally said.

Harry grinned. He tasted Ron’s precum and resisted the urge to smack his lips.

“And you’re sure you like doing this? I mean, I’m not complaining, but…”

“Yeah, I’m positive,” Harry said, still breathing hard. He knelt down in front of Ron and ran his hands up his best mate’s thighs, spreading his legs further to give him better access to his cock. “I want to keep going, if that’s okay.”

“Knock yourself out, mate. But, just to make sure… how far do you want to take this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if this is helping you figure things out, then lucky me, I’m happy go along for as long as you want. But I have to warn you, I’m starting to see why you were able to make Malfoy cum with this. What if I can’t hold it? What if I blow while you’re still… ?”

Harry grinned in spite of himself. He was already stroking Ron’s shaft with his hand, ready to put it back in his mouth.

“That’s okay, just do whatever you want,” he said and wrapped his lips around Ron’s cock.

“Oh…” Ron whimpered and spread his legs even wider.

Harry took Ron’s cock further and further into his mouth until his chin touched Ron’s balls. Ron moaned, which encouraged Harry to worship Ron’s cock in earnest. With Malfoy, he had been anxious and nervous the entire time, afraid the Slytherin would pull out and humiliate him. But Ron wanted this, and enjoyed this. Harry could hear it and feel it in the way his cock throbbed and twitched against his tongue.

Suddenly he felt Ron’s hands on his head, digging his fingers into Harry’s hair. At first he was following Harry’s movement as he bobbed up and down Ron’s cock. But then he gently nudged and guided him to go deeper. Every time Harry took him all the way in, Ron would grunt and grip his hair tighter.

“Yeah, that’s it…” Ron groaned. He held Harry’s head steady and started thrusting into him instead, very slowly and with relish.

Harry relaxed into his best mate’s grip and tried his best not to gag when Ron slid all the way in. But he trusted Ron more than anyone. So he adjusted his breathing and let Ron fuck his mouth and throat.

“Fuck!” Ron whimpered and sped up his thrusts, grabbing the back of Harry’s neck to push him further down on his hard on. Ron’s balls began slapping against Harry’s chin. His moans turned into grunts of pleasure and then Ron seemed to relinquish all control and began fucking Harry’s face at speed.

“Yeah, just like that, hold still, I think I’m gonna… Oh yeah, here it comes, FUCK!”

Ron thrust all the way into Harry’s throat and then cried out, cramped up, and spilled his load into Harry. With every one of Ron’s choked grunts, Harry felt a warm jet of cum hit his throat. Harry gagged and swallowed, tightening his throat around Ron’s tip.

“Fuck!” Ron yelled again and started pumping in and out of Harry’s lips, releasing his full load into Harry’s mouth. Harry kept his lips wrapped around Ron’s shaft, making sure that none of it spilled.

The bucking of Ron’s hips gradually slowed and he released Harry’s head from his grip. Harry gave Ron’s cock a final lick and then let go. He stood up, stretched his aching knees and plopped down next to Ron on his bed.

“Merlin’s Balls, Harry,” Ron said breathlessly.

“Wow,” was all Harry could say, and it came out rather hoarsely.

“Are you okay, mate?”

“Yeah, I’m great, actually.”

“Sorry I got carried away. I didn’t mean to grab you like that, but… Harry, this was the best wank I’ve ever had! Ever!”

“Thanks,” Harry grinned. His own cock was still aching for release, but he felt immensely satisfied. For some reason, and Ron’s praise flattered him in ways he had never experienced. “You actually taste pretty good.”

“Better than Malfoy?”

Harry laughed. “Yeah,” he said, even though he didn’t quite know how to compare the experience. “I definitely tasted a lot more of yours than of his.”

“You don’t expect me to, you know, return the favor, do you?” Ron sounded slightly worried.

“Not at all.” The feeling of Ron’s cock spilling in his mouth and the sounds he made when he came were already etched in Harry’s memory. That seemed like the best reward he could have dreamed of.

“Well, this is brilliant then, isn’t it? If you liked it and I liked it, we should just— bollocks, someone’s coming!”

There were footsteps coming up the staircase.

Ron hastily wrapped his towel over his lap again and then turned to Harry, ruffling Harry’s shock of black hair where he had dug his fingers in only moments before, so that it returned to its usual unruly appearance.

“There. You’re welcome,” Ron grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First note: To those of you who thought this was going to be a Drarry pairing – HA GOTCHA! I jest. Of course it’s Drarry, but there’s some detours Harry needs to take first. So be patient, bear with my soft spot for Ron/Harry, and I shall return you safely to the Drarry ship.
> 
> Second note: I am not blessed with a beta reader, so let me know if you catch something, and also feel free to make suggestions and offer comments!


	5. Chapter 5

Charms class was the usual mayhem and noise. They were practicing the Disillusionment Charm, and Professor Flitwick had suggested the eighth years practice casting it non-verbally. It should have been a quiet class, but of course was anything but. Dean was whacking Seamus over the head with his wand until Seamus howled and wrestled it from him. The Patil sisters had somehow managed to make their school robes look like a brick wall and were drawing a crowd of curious onlookers. Malfoy was in the back of the class, enduring various half-hearted attempts from the seventh years to make him invisible. Most seemed to enjoy rapping the top of his head rather harshly, while others seemed intent on messing up his hair, and a few were too shy to even touch him with their wands. Malfoy’s expression of dismay was unwavering. Harry hoped he could catch the Slytherin’s eye. He was surprised to find that he wanted to smooth Malfoy’s pale blonde hair and replace his scowl with a smile.

“Harry?” Hermione snapped him out of his thoughts. “It’s your turn.”

Hermione’s Disillusionment Charm was perfect already of course, whereas Harry had only managed to turn Ron’s clothing into shades of pastel, and Ron had only managed to make Harry’s head disappear. Hiding a stationary object like their tent while hunting Horcruxes had been so much easier.

“You seem more distracted than usual these past few days. Both of you, actually,” Hermione remarked.

Harry mentally chided himself for thinking Hermione wouldn’t notice. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the incident with Malfoy, nor about experimenting with Ron. The rest of the day after Ron had cum in his mouth had been normal. But then Ron had started giving him knowing looks every now and then – a silent acknowledgement of their shared secret. He suspected Ron was waiting for Harry to make a move – ask for another favor perhaps, or tell someone, or bring the topic up in some way. But Harry had no idea what to do, or how to reciprocate Ron’s looks.

“It’s nothing,” Harry waved her off and braced himself for another of Ron’s attempts at Disillusionment.

When Ron’s wand touched the top of Harry’s hair, it tingled, and Harry was reminded of the moment when Ron had grabbed his head and started fucking into his mouth. As the tingling sensation spread down his scalp, a hard-on grew in his groin. He needed to distract himself.

Suddenly he found himself staring into Malfoy’s eyes across the room. He tried to smile, but Malfoy merely raised an eyebrow. Harry hoped Ron’s Disillusionment Charm was working well enough to hide the blush that he felt rising in his cheeks.

* * *

Hermione slapped her book shut, making both Harry and Ron jump.

“Honestly, you two, what is going on? You’ve barely said a word to each other all evening!”

They were nestled into their favorite squashy armchairs in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was right, as always. Harry had been staring into the fireplace, lost in thought about Malfoy’s skin and the look of surprise on the Slytherin’s face when he’d realized Harry had healed his scar. He still hadn’t told Hermione that their plan had worked.

Ron was about to say something, but Hermione cut him off: “And don’t you start to too, Ronald, I know it’s not ‘nothing’!”

Ron shot him a pleading look. They had to tell her something. Harry racked his brain for an explanation. A Quidditch disagreement?

“Ron and I…” Harry began.

“Harry told me he thinks he likes blokes!” Ron blurted out.

Harry wanted to punch Ron right then and there, but instead he spun around to check if the common room was deserted – it was – and cast a non-verbal _Muffliato_ to the entrance of the boys and girls dormitories.

“I didn’t!” the idea of denying everything popped into his head, but then he resigned to tell the truth.

He did take a moment to glare at Ron though, who shrunk into his armchair, looking superbly uncomfortable. Served him right.

Hermione hadn’t said anything. She looked surprised, but not judging.

“I mean, I’m not sure,” Harry continued. “I don’t know what’s going on with me. I want things to go back to the way they used to be. Back to normal. But I don’t even know what normal is anymore.”

“It’s okay. I think we all feel like that sometimes, with… everything that happened. Just so you know, Harry, there are lots of wizards who are attracted to men and women, just like there are witches who are attracted to women and men.”

“How do you know?” Ron snorted, with just enough emphasis on ‘you’ to earn him a sharp look from Hermione.

“I’ve read about them. There are even books on the topic in the Hogwarts library.”

Harry wanted to hug her and was surprised how relieved he was at the idea that he might not be alone – that there were books about it, even if he had no desire to read them.

“I didn’t say I’m attracted to men! I know how I feel about Ginny. I’ve just had thoughts lately about blokes that I didn’t use to have.”  
“Have you told Ginny?”

“What exactly am I supposed to tell her, Hermione?” Harry snapped. “That I have thoughts and feelings about blokes, but I don’t know what they are? How helpful is that?”

“Calm down, Harry. We’re just trying to help,” Hermione said, looking to Ron for help.

“I didn’t ask for your advice!”

“I wasn’t going to give you advice. I was going to share something with you that I thought might help,” she replied, sounding cross. Harry sighed, his temper already forgotten.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. Go ahead.”

“In sixth year, do you remember when Ginny was dating Dean Thomas?”

“Yeah,” Ron muttered bitterly.

“Do you remember the rumor that was going around that Dean and Seamus were secretly a couple?”

“No!” Ron and Harry exclaimed in unison.

“Honestly you two, sometimes I don’t know _how_ you manage,” Hermione said in her usual tone of exasperation mixed with the smugness of knowing more. “It started on the Hogwarts Express when Parvati saw that Seamus had fallen asleep on Dean’s shoulder. And then people noticed that they occasionally wore each other’s robes and even switched wands sometimes. The rumor turned out to be completely wrong of course. But I told Ginny, because no one dared to tell her, with her dating Dean and all. And we talked about the possibility that Dean and Seamus were not just friends, but were… well, having sex with each other.”

Harry could tell she was trying not to blush by quickly moving on: “We both agreed that it didn’t matter if the rumor was true, as long as Dean still loved Ginny. In fact, we both agreed that we wouldn’t have minded.”

“We???” Ron spluttered.

“Some of us have a broader perspective on life and relationships, Ron!” Hermione chided him.

“Girls…” Ron whispered, looking resigned.

Harry needed to digest what Hermione had said. “So you’re saying I should tell Ginny, because she’ll understand? I don’t even know what it is that I’m telling or not telling her!”

“I just wanted to let you know what we talked about, Harry,” Hermione said kindly. “And I think if you’re afraid of what Ginny will think, you’re not giving her enough credit.”

* * *

Hours later, Harry had pulled the curtains of his four-poster bed shut and was mulling over what Hermione had said. Would it help if he told Ginny about the thoughts he’d been having about blokes? He could never tell her about what he’d done with Ron though, and probably also not with Malfoy. Nobody would understand.

The drapes rustled, and Ron slipped inside, closing them behind him. He cast a whispered _Muffliato_ around them and then cleared his throat, looking at Harry expectantly. He was wearing a loose T-Shirt that revealed his collarbone. Harry remembered the sensation of running his fingers along Ron’s chest. Were these distracting thoughts ever going to stop? Still, he fumbled to find his glasses to get a better look.

“Harry! You know what this means, right?”

“What?” Harry answered.

“Hermione doesn’t mind! That means we can keep going – I can keep helping you figure this out! I was a little worried, because… well, to be honest you and I went a little further than I thought we would. I didn’t know how she would react when she finds out, but it turns out she doesn’t mind! I mean, she wouldn’t mind, if I told her.”

Harry grabbed Ron’s hand. “You _can’t_ tell Hermione about what we did!”

“’Course not, I’m not mental, am I? I didn’t mean now, I mean someday. Which is why I’m so relieved she won’t mind. At this point, Merlin, I haven’t even done anything with her, yet. I can’t tell her now.”

“You told her about me thinking about blokes!”

“I thought you were going to tell her about what you and I did! So I panicked…”

“I was going to make something up about Quidditch,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh. In that case, sorry about that, mate. But it went all right, didn’t it? Except I thought that after what we did, you’d be sure. I thought I was helping you figure things out?”

Harry looked down at his hands and fumbled with his blanket. After giving Ron a blowjob, he knew he wanted more, but more of what? He wasn’t sure.

“You _did_ like it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, still keeping his eyes fixed on the blanket. He’d loved every bit of it.

“And when I came, you even liked swallowing me, right?”

Harry recalled the taste of Ron’s cum and the feeling of his cock pulsing against the back of his throat. He licked his lips without thinking and nodded.

“And you’d do it again, right?” Ron continued.

Harry felt the heat rush into his cheeks and took in Ron’s body sitting on his bed. The way his boxers stretched across his lap, the freckled skin of his arms that disappeared beneath the hem of his T-Shirt. If Ron asked, he’d go down on his mate right now. He dared to look into Ron’s eyes and nodded carefully.

“Hang on. Then I don’t understand,” Ron said, frowning. “You’re sure about all that, but you’re still not sure if you’re into blokes?”

Harry swallowed hard and struggled to find his voice again. “It’s different with you. I’d try anything with you, especially if it makes you feel good. But I think that’s just because we’re best mates, right?”

“You’re definitely my best mate, Harry, but I wouldn’t do _that_ to you. No offense.”

“I know!” Harry said hastily. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to make you feel good,” Ron clarified. “If you had, you know, girls parts down there, then sure, I’d give it a go. Sort you out, until you… whatever girls do when they…”

“Ron…”

“I wonder if people have tried polyjuice potion to change someone’s – wait, what if there _was_ a way to give _me_ girls or boys parts? Which would you prefer?”

“Ron!”

“What? It’s the perfect question to help you think this through! If you enjoyed making me cum, would you prefer doing it with me having a penis or a vagina? But nah, I don’t think I could do it. I would go mental if I had girls’ parts. What if I couldn’t change back?”

“What I’m trying to tell you,” Harry said impatiently, “is that it feels different for me. I’m not interested in boys the way I like girls – the way I like Ginny. I had a crush on Cho and I love Ginny. With you, I just want to make you feel good, and sort of… mess around and play with your body.”

“Come on, Harry, I saw what happened. You had a boner the entire time you were touching me.”

“Fine, I _really_ want to mess around and explore your body. And maybe with other blokes too, if they’re anything like you. With Ginny, it’s so much more. I want to _be_ with her. Now and all the time, and for the rest of my life. At the same time, I can’t picture… you know, getting naked with her, or asking her to go down on me.”

“Harry, you do know we’re talking about my sister here…”

“I know, I’m sorry, mate. I guess what I’m saying is that I want to do those things with her, but I wouldn’t know what to do, and I have no idea how to work up the courage to ask her. The same way, I think, that I had no idea how to ask Cho out to the Yule Ball in fourth year, and I completely botched it!”

“Hm, I think I understand now. I don’t know how long it’s going to take with Hermione and me either – I definitely want to, but I feel like it’s going to take a while to work up to it. For now, just snogging is amazing. Hang on, do you want to snog me?”

The question caught Harry off guard. He looked at Ron’s lips. They were the same color as Ginny’s, except there was more of them.

“I… do you want me to?” Harry stuttered.

“It’s you who’s into blokes, Harry, not me. I’m just trying to help.”

The rejection stung more than he’d thought it would. “But you enjoyed it when I was getting you off the other day, didn’t you?” Harry replied, irritated.

“’Course I did. I told you. It was the best wank I’ve ever had!”

Harry grew increasingly frustrated. Ron’s compliment rang hollow. Of course he would do it again, and he would enjoy every bit of Ron’s pleasure, but surely Ron could give _some_ acknowledgement that Harry was attractive too, that Ron had enjoyed himself because it was Harry who was doing it?

“So then, what would you have done if I’d tried to snog you?” Harry snapped back.

“Blimey Harry… when you had me all the way in your mouth, I s’pose I’d have let you do pretty much whatever, just as long as you kept going. You have no idea how good it feels to have your cock in someone’s mouth.”

Ron was right. Harry had no idea what that felt like.

He retrieved the Marauder’s Map and invisibility cloak from under his pillows and climbed out from under his sheets. Ron had a clear view of the boner tenting his pajamas, but Harry didn’t care. The way this conversation was going, he was going to yell at Ron – that, or tear his clothes off and suck his cock until he came. Neither of those outcomes seemed wise.

“I need to go for a walk,” he said tightly.

 

When the portrait of the Fat Lady swung shut behind him, Harry took a deep breath. He scanned the Marauder’s Map to make sure no one saw him put on the invisibility cloak – and more importantly that no one had witnessed Harry Potter standing in front of the Gryffindor common room entrance with a massive hard-on tenting his robes.

One tiny dot in particular caught his eye. What was Malfoy doing in the hospital wing – in Madam Pomfrey’s potion storeroom?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and suggestions are welcome! I'm also looking for beta readers! Email me at lettuceleft@gmail.com if you're interested in helping me bring this fic to a satisfying end! Happy to beta-read your (HP) works in return ☺


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